Sitting next to his brother around the dining table, Harold Littrell had his elbow propped on the table and tilted his head so that it was rested on the palm of his hand. His mouth was slightly a gap, eyes staring at his younger brother with utter awe; his own food laid in front of him, untouched.
The seventeen year old was slurping the ready-to-eat spaghetti continuously with no fear of being choked. His curly, towel-dried sandy beach blonde hair smelt of the mint dew shampoo he had just bought that evening. He was wearing a white turtle neck sweater that Harold thought was a size too big for his still growing body. The denim blue jeans a descendant from brother to brother.
Harold sighed and tapped on his shoulder lightly. He waited for the young man to stop and when he raised his head and his blue eyes met his, he said, "What's the hurry?"
Brian, mouth still half full with meatball sauce, managed to throw a small smile. "I'm going off to the library with some friends. Project, don't even get me started."
Harold nodded and stole a glance on his wristwatch before looking up again. "It's almost eight, don't you think it's too late?"
"And you think I eat like a pig because I enjoyed it." Brian scoffed.
"Actually, I did."
"Shut up." Brian rolled his eyes and continued on his food. Harold shifted his gaze to the surrounding around the kitchen. It was neat as neat could be when a house was put in charged by the hands of a twenty-four year old, single man.
Life hadn't been easy ever since the untimely death of their parents. A happy, complete family, ended by a reckless, drunk man behind a wheel. He was only twenty-one then, it was supposed to be the time of his life, but he found himself dropping out of College and went back home to support his brother and only family left. Brian was only fourteen and he was lost and had only him to depend on.
He remembered the night after the memorial service and Brian had woken him up. He was too worn out from taking care of the entire service to ensure a smooth ride that sleep had came as easily as breathing. But for Brian, sleep was nothing but like a distant past time. Night was his friend, it wrapped him up in a warm embrace, wringing out all unwanted fears and insecurities that had somehow lingered in him.
"Harold, are you awake?" Still clouded by sleep and daze, he had pushed himself up on a sitting position in his bed and switched on the table lamp. Brian was wide awake, not a hint of sleep seen on his young face. The swollen eyes however had given him the clue that he had been crying.
"What are you doing up so late Bri?"
"I have to ask you something." Brian had replied, eyes locked on his. His hands were trembling, even when he had clamped them together and tried to make it still, it had not gone unnoticed.
"I guess you can't ask me tomorrow over breakfast huh?"
"I have to ask you now or I won't be able to go back to sleep." Brian replied, his eyes leaving him and he stared at the shadowed floor.
Harold touched his chin and lifted his head up gently, making them at eye level again.
"What is it?"
"Will they let you keep me?"
"What do you mean?"
"The social worker, will she take me away from you?"
"No Bri, she's not gonna do-"
"Because I don't want to end up in a foster home. I don't want another family, I have you!" Brian cried. Harold had pulled him in a hug immediately and for his brother, he had held his own tears in.
He felt Brian pushing him away after what seemed like minutes and looking at him in the eyes, he said, "Promise me you'll never let them take me away from you."
"We will always be together bro. I'll take care of you. I promise." Harold replied and gave him his victorious smile even though deep inside, he wasn't sure.
"No. We will take care of each other."
He felt a tap on his shoulder and his thoughts were back in the kitchen again. "Aren't you gonna eat that?"
"What, you gonna eat that one too if I don't?" Harold asked.
"No, I'm done. I'll be home by ten." Brian said as he got up and picked his bag on the floor and headed for the back door. He stopped half way and turned to see him again. "Don't waste food."
Harold laughed and said, "I won't." Brian grinned and turned towards the door again. Harold quickly got up from his seat and grabbed his hand, making Brian turned back again.
"What?"
"You want me to drive you there? It's a long way to the library." Harold offered.
"I'm meeting AJ half way, down by the supermarket. Don't worry about it." Brian smiled.
"Just make sure you keep a look out for the traffic all right?" Harold fussed.
"I'll keep an extra eye on the road." Brian assured him and as Harold relentlessly let go of his grip, Brian reached to the door and turned the doorknob.
"Take care Harry." Brian said and waved him goodbye before slipping out of the door.
For Harold, it had been like a ritual. The moment Brian stepped out of the house, he was left with all the worrying.
------
There was nothing out of the ordinary that night. The walk along the deserted pavement was like any other walk he had been through at a night such as this. Accompanied by his loyal shadow and the friendly glow of the street lamps that seemed to grow on the side of the pavement was all that he needed. When he was lucky enough, a full moon would smile upon him from above, accompanied by millions of stars that was like his safety blanket. He felt safe. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Just a few more steps and he would be greeted with the first junction, from there he would turn left, where the road would take him into the parking lot of the supermarket, where his best friend AJ would be working.
His mind was troubled with plans after plans for their History project. Like everyone else their age, project had meant 'something we put on hold to the very last minute'. Now, he wasn't so sure if that had been a good idea.
As he made the left turn, he saw AJ already waiting for him by his car, cigarette in hand. He dropped the stick and stomp on it several times as he made his way nearer to him. AJ knew he didn't really like the smell.
"Why are you still in that nasty thing?" Brian asked, pointing at AJ's uniform.
"This nasty thing is what's feeding this growing body, do I have a choice?" AJ replied, rolling his eyes.
"Guess not. But it's still nasty though." Brian giggled.
"Like your seven eleven shirt is any better." AJ scoffed.
"It is actually." Brian smiled. AJ rolled his eyes again and said, "I have to do some last minute stock up, can you wait for a sec?"
"I'm not that hype to go to the library." Brian sighed.
"Cool. Take care of this baby!" AJ faked enthusiasm as he passed the car key over and made his way back to the store.
"Get me some drink, I'm thirsty!" Brian called out. AJ waved his hand and walked away.
Standing near the car alone at night, Brian took a deep breath and silently showered himself with the comfort of the night. His legs were tired from the walk and the temptation of getting in the car was overwhelming but there was just something about that night that had made him stayed outside. The stars were sparkling, as if winking at him. Harold had always told him that up there was where their parents were, lingering among the stars. Perhaps that day, his parents were up there waving at him and there was no way he wanted to miss that.
His thoughts were interrupted by a pair of hands that roughly pushed him from the back, sending him to slam his body against AJ's car. Before he could even make any sense to it, he was pulled back again and his body was turned forcefully to face the intruder.
"You think you're a hotshot boy? You think you can ignore us and get away with it?" He was faced with a young man not any older than him, only slightly built. He had grabbed him by his shirt and was yelling abuses at him. He noticed that there was another guy with him and he was grinning in the dark, taking pleasure in his discomfort.
"I'm sorry…" Brian started but was cut short with a hard blow to his abdomen. He dropped immediately to his knees and as the pain burnt his body, he wondered what had triggered the attack.
Another blow came and made contact to his left rib that landed him flat on the coarse ground. A hand pulled him by his hair and he came face to face with the other guy. His face was contorted with pure rage. "This will teach you a lesson." With that last sentence said, he felt his face slammed hard on the ground. He felt his skin tore and the piercing pain he was feeling told him that he was bleeding.
The attack continued vigorously as the two young men's assault on Brian's body never stop. When they finally did, Brian wasn't moving.
"Shit!"
"Is he dead?" The second boy asked as he knelt down and touched Brian's neck, trying to find a pulse.
"Is he?"
"I can't feel a pulse." He replied before standing up again to meet the gaze of his friend. "I think he's dead."
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
"What are we gonna do?"
"Look." He waited as his friend knelt down beside the body and pulled out a key from under it. "I think it's the car key."
"So?"
"We're gonna take his car and make it look like he's been robbed."
"Are you crazy?" He cried, eyes wandering in the dark, suddenly aware that someone might be watching.
"I'm not gonna sit here and wait for the cops man! You can stay here if you want, I don't care!" He watched as his friend unlocked the car and rushed in. He knelt down next to the body again and without giving himself the chance to think it over, he shoved his hand deep inside the boy's pocket and fished out his wallet. Grabbing all the money he found there and abandoning the wallet, rushed up to the car and slid in.
"Good call." His friend smiled and stepping on the gas pedal, drove out of the parking lot and into the night.
*~*
Inspector Richardson watched as the officers proceeded to handcuff the two juveniles, his mind troubled with the raise in crime rates involving delinquents such as the case he had been handling for the past two weeks.
The victim was only seventeen and his life was stop short because of gangsters and bullies like them. All evidence showed that they were guilty, fingerprints were everywhere. There was no need for interrogations, all fingers were pointing at the two eighteen year olds for murder.
Ironically as it seemed, he was the one who handled the hit and run accident three years ago and back then, Jackie and Harold Littrell had became casualties to a drunkard, they were the victim's parents. It was like deja vu, having to meet up with Harold Littrell Jr and broke the news that his only brother was dead. 24 years old and totally alone.
The officers were about to bring the convicts out when he had stop them and walked up to one of the young men. Fear was written clearly on his young face and yet, his pride never did left when he faced him.
"Just a question before you're off," Inspector Richardson said, fingers subconsciously rubbing at his chin lightly. "Why did you do it if it isn't for the car, or the money?"
The boy's face frowned, showing his displeasure as he recalled the incident. "He's a snob, somebody needs to put him on his place."
"A snob? What did he ever do to you both?" Inspector Richardson asked, forcing himself not to yell.
"The kid ignored us when we yelled at him. Didn't even turn around once! He's not dumb, I heard him talked with that supermarket guy." He replied.
Inspector Richardson closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. His hands already balled into a fist. When he opened up his eyes, the boy had a smirk on his face. It took all of his energy not to punch him right then.
"That kid you kicked and killed, his name is Brian Thomas Littrell, and he's not dumb, just deaf. He can't hear you yelling at the back. You two make me sick, I hope you rot in jail."
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